


nightswimming

by crystalcities



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Drunkenness, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcities/pseuds/crystalcities
Summary: Two different nights in France.





	nightswimming

Max wakes up in the middle of the night. It’s a sweltering night in France, and for some reason the hotel he’s staying at doesn’t have air conditioning. That’s not so much of a problem, compared to the hard-on in his shorts and the hot desire that accompanies it. He’s had a dream about Daniel again, and he can’t remember what about exactly, but only a memory that he _wants_. Now he’s awake at 3am the night before qualifying, sweating and ashamed that he can’t get over a little teenage crush.

He stares at the ceiling and tries not to think about it. He tries breathing exercises, tries to think about something not sexy. A cold shower maybe? Except his mind immediately goes to sitting in an ice bath semi-naked with Daniel in Singapore or Malaysia. A completely innocent thing to do pre-race to prepare for the heat. He feels stupid for attaching subtext to it, feels even worse at the way his body is interested in the memory of Daniel, shirtless and wet, sitting barely an arm’s length away.

He has to do something about this because it’s definitely not going to take care of itself. He gets up shakily and goes to the bathroom. He doesn’t turn on the light because he doesn’t need to see how wrecked he must look now, just from figments of his imagination, about something that never will be. He closes his eyes, pushes his shorts down, spits in his hand and wraps it around his dick. He tries not to think about anything except for the sensations of skin dragging against skin, and he’s mostly unsuccessful at that. He strokes himself fast, wanting it to be done so he can go back to sleep and forget temporarily. He comes quickly, an unremarkable orgasm compared to all the angst leading up to it. He blinks a few times, wipes the back of his hand across his eyes, cleans himself up and goes back to bed.

* * *

Max knows that him and Daniel are completely different people and if not for their shared profession and not for the chance of being on a team together with so many media duties, they would not have spent time with each other at all. Daniel treats him like he treats everyone else, charming and warm and funny, and he’s worldly in a way that’s unlike anybody else Max knows. Max thinks he’s only looking up to Daniel as a senior driver whom he’ll surpass one day but he can’t help falling for him too. Now it’s three years later and Daniel is racing for a different team. Max thought not having to be around Daniel every two weeks would help him forget but it’s only done the opposite. Every race weekend he looks around the paddock for a flash of black and yellow and his ears perk up at that distinctive laugh.

Maybe it would be easier to forget if he really believes there will never be a chance.

It was Daniel’s birthday in St. Tropez. Daniel’s invited everyone he knew. There’s a big party, music, good company, and a lot of alcohol. Max, perhaps with his courage bolstered by a few drinks, had gone up to dance with Daniel. Neither of them were really coordinated by that point in the evening, and they mostly ended up falling into each other, laughing. For some reason Daniel didn’t mind Max taking all his attention even though he had friends there who traveled all the way from Australia.

Max doesn’t remember what happened in between, except that there were more drinks, but at some point he found himself outside with Daniel. They leaned against a building, looking out to the sea. Daniel was humming a tune he didn’t know. The lights from the city lit up Daniel in heavy contrasts. Max looked at his profile for a long while, until Daniel suddenly turned towards him and smiled, and Max, in his hazy, drunken state, thought, _it’s now or never_ , and surged forwards to kiss Daniel. He held him by his curls and lined himself up the best he can, unsure what exactly he’s doing even though he’s thought about it a thousand times. Daniel’s eyes slide shut and he kissed Max back, much more expertly than what Max was doing. Max made a noise, and he felt very, very light-headed as he let Daniel take charge of the kiss. It’s hot, and wet, and it’s _Daniel_ , mixed with the salty air from the sea. It’s better than what he’s imagined in all his fantasies. He let go of Daniel’s curls and tried to touch him everywhere else. He felt hot where Daniel was holding him, and he felt like he could hardly stand for a second-

“Daniel, I-“ he broke the kiss to whisper, and passed out.

The next morning he woke up in his own hotel room with a splitting headache. He’s still fully dressed in the shirt and shorts he’s wearing last night. He didn’t remember how he got there, but his phone, wallet and key card were on the nightstand, next to a glass of water and two aspirins.

He’s supposed to fly home in a few hours. At the airport, he stared at his phone, typing and deleting several messages, before finally giving up. They’ve never talked about it at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy French GP weekend! I can't quite get over how much more mature Max seems this season, but still my fav is him silently suffering from his unrequited love (and I can't sleep), so here it is.
> 
> Links:  
> [Daniel and Max in an ice bath](https://youtu.be/1Wpyn3HKPss)


End file.
